Christmas with Tony
by ytteb
Summary: Tony's mishaps and, possibly, pleasures at Christmas.
1. Chapter 1

_Jumping on the Christmas bandwagon!_

Tony DiNozzo stood looking at himself sadly in the mirror in the men's room at NCIS. His eyes were full of bewildered sorrow. At least, he thought they probably were. It was difficult to see them through the wire rimmed glasses and the white ringlets tumbling over his forehead. His smile was upside down but this sign of misery was also hidden; the full silver beard hid most things. Tony took a moment to wonder if all Father Christmas costumes were designed to hide the wearer's features because they were all likely to be unwilling conscripts to the grim task.

Tony pulled the red Santa hat on and adjusted the belt around his stomach padding. At least, he thought, he still needed padding. He was momentarily cheered by this 'glass half-full' attitude but then gloom descended once more as he looked at his reflection and considered how long it would be before his hair was really that white, before he needed the wire rimmed glasses and before nature supplied the padding. Well, he told himself, he would never let his hair go this wild even if it did turn a snowy white.

He heaved a sigh as he braced himself to go about his Santa-ly duties. He had, after all, only got himself to blame …

Earlier that day.

Perhaps Special Agent DiNozzo had sucked on too many candy canes, perhaps he had tested his mulled cider recipe too diligently or perhaps he had just been too full of the Christmas spirit. Perhaps he was just unlucky? How many times had he put superglue on McGee's keyboard and got nothing but a pained McExpression and an amused head slap from Gibbs? Why should Christmas Eve of all days prove to be an exception? Why on earth should Gibbs choose Christmas Eve as the one day _ever_ to sit at McGee's computer and _use _it? Gibbs barely used his own computer so why would he decide to use someone else's?

There were many things that puzzled Tony DiNozzo, many of life's mysteries that eluded his understanding but Gibbs deliberately touching McGee's keyboard – and with all his fingers at once: this was something which would defeat the world's best brains. In fact, Tony would not be surprised if the world had stopped on its axis for a moment or two. If the flap of a butterfly's wings could precipitate a hurricane what would Gibbs turning computer geek do to the delicate balance of the earth's eco-system?

As Tony heard Gibbs' roar of fury and turned with bemused horror towards its source, he found himself almost wanting to laugh at the shock on Gibbs' face. He quickly suppressed such a foolhardy impulse but did wonder if this 'accident' would be the death knell for any minuscule affection Gibbs might have for a computer. What would he do now that a computer had fought back?

"DiNozzo!" roared Gibbs.

"Boss?" said Tony, reaching rather unsuccessfully for studied nonchalance.

"DiNozzo!" repeated Gibbs with increased decibels.

"On your six, Boss," said Tony obediently and reaching for his backpack in an effort to pretend that he thought he was being dispatched to apprehend an unwary felon.

"Are you responsible for this?"

"For what, Boss?" said Tony innocently.

In answer Gibbs simply raised both hands and the keyboard came with them.

"Uh, yes, Boss," admitted Tony, knowing that evasion was futile. Although, he mused, with Gibbs' hands otherwise occupied, at least the Boss couldn't shoot him. He winced, however, at the thought of how much a head slap would hurt when administered with the benefit of a state of the art keyboard. "But," he went on reasonably, "it wasn't aimed at you." Gibbs glared at him apparently unable to decide what would be more stupid: putting superglue on a keyboard or pranking him.

"Gibbs, you never use anyone else's computer; hell, you never even sit at anyone else's desk. You barely sit at your own. This is not my fault."

Gibbs glared again. "OK," said Tony, "I admit it's more my fault than yours. OK, I admit it's entirely my fault. But why are you sitting at McGee's desk anyway?" Another Gibbs glare. "OK, that's none of my business. You're the Boss, you can sit at anyone's desk. That's why you're the Boss. And, of course, you don't need to explain yourself. Er, I'll just go get the acetone."

"You do that, DiNozzo," said Gibbs in a calm voice that was even more menacing than the previous roars.

Tony thought that freeing Gibbs' fingers from the keyboard was probably one of the bravest things he had ever done and that included rescuing the Boss from a watery grave and hanging by his finger tips from a great height in the multi-story car park. Fortunately for Tony his usually fertile mind dried up during this ordeal meaning that he couldn't think of any helpful banter which, despite his eternal optimism, would not have made the situation any less … er … sticky.

As the last fingertip was eased free of the keyboard, Tony stood back and braced himself. Gibbs smiled, the sort of smile that perhaps he had once smiled when, as a sniper, he realised that he finally had his prey at his mercy. Perhaps it was the smile of a snake when an unwary animal came within its coils. Gibbs raised himself slowly to his feet and moved towards his senior field agent as a panther approaches a goat.

Tony recalled his proud Italian and English heritage. He remembered that he was a trained federal agent. He tried to remember if his will was up to date. He straightened his back, squared his shoulders, raised his chin and swallowed anxiously, "B-b-boss?" he quavered.

"It's your lucky day, DiNozzo," said Gibbs after a long pause.

"It is?" squeaked Tony.

"Oh, yes," drawled Gibbs, "Oh yes."

"That's good?"

"The Director asked me a favour just now," said Gibbs, "and I was going to say no, but I've changed my mind."

"Oh?"

"Yes. The Director needs a volunteer."

"Good?"

"Some people might think so," conceded Gibbs.

"Good," said Tony.

"But I don't think you're one of them," said Gibbs moving another inch towards Tony.

"Oh?"

Gibbs smiled again and a chill ran down Tony's spine. "No," he said, "I don't think you're one of them."

Tony tried a chuckle in case Gibbs was joking, although years of experience should have told him that was as unlikely as Gibbs sitting at McGee's keyboard. The laugh wasn't one of his best efforts. Gibbs canted his head as he considered how long to continue the agony and then seemed to decide to go for the killer blow,

"The Director needs someone to play Santa at the Christmas party in half an hour."

This was punishment on the grandest scale. Gibbs was renowned for his imaginative reprimands but this reached new heights. The child phobic, elegantly dressed Tony DiNozzo to be offered up, in an ill-fitting red suit, to the attentions of over excited, over tired, demanding tots was a punishment which more than fitted the crime.

Gibbs stared at Tony. Tony stared back. The tension in the air was almost tangible.

"I'd be happy to do that," said Tony stoically with barely a quaver in his voice.

Approval flickered over Gibbs' face as Tony walked to the metaphorical firing squad.

"Good," he said, "go see Abby. She's got the costume."

Tony winced but said nothing and walked bravely to the elevator.

NCISNCIS

Tony walked moodily along the corridor to the cafeteria. He could hear the dull roar of children enjoying themselves as they feasted on food designed to send them on a sugar high. Why, he wondered, didn't they serve raw carrots and lettuce at these affairs; and water rather than sodas? In his head, he began to draft a letter of suggestions to the catering manager.

Tony looked at the floor that his black booted feet were walking on. He could tell that children had preceded him; there was a litter of candy wrappers, a mitten, two gloves and what looked like a misshapen hat. He resisted an impulse to bag and tag the crime scene and noticed that Phil the janitor was coming up behind to clear away the detritus.

He sighed and then jumped as a message reached him through his earwig.

"They're ready for you, Santa."

Tony braced himself and walked briskly to the door. His triumphal entry was slightly spoiled by pulling instead of pushing the door but he got in eventually and was greeted by screeches of delight. For a moment, Tony thought this might be OK. He didn't usually get this sort of reception.

"Ho, Ho, Ho," he said as jovially as he could, "have you all been good girls and boys?"

"YES!" the children roared back.

"Hmmm," said Tony, "I might need to check the most wanted wall to make sure of that. Some of you look a bit suspicious to me." The children gazed at him uncertainly and the parents scowled at him. "Ho, Ho, Ho," said Tony again, thinking that might be a winning formula.

Fortunately for Tony, Abby took pity on him. To be truthful, she was actually taking pity on the children but Tony chose not to interpret it that way. Abby led Tony to Father Christmas's chair in the centre of the room, saying as they went,

"Santa's had a difficult trip from Lapland and the reindeer got tired, so let's all be nice to him, shall we?"

The children looked a bit puzzled at the novel idea that they should be nice to Santa but, seeing the bulging sacks of presents, decided to go along with this. Abby chose a placid looking girl to be Tony's first victim/visitor.

"This is Samantha," said Abby, "_ask her what she wants for Christmas,"_ she added in a whisper.

"What do you want for Christmas, Sammie?" asked Tony.

"Mommy doesn't like it when people shorten my name," said Samantha.

"Oh," said Tony, "some mommies only use full names when they're cross with their children. Ho, ho, ho. What does your mommy call you when she's cross with you?"

"She's never cross with me," said Samantha firmly, "I'm a good girl."

"Oh," said Tony, losing interest, "that's nice. Here's your present. Merry Christmas. Ho, ho, ho."

Santa Tony was not the most jovial or insightful of Father Christmases but he proved to be an efficient one. The children were handed their presents and given a ho, ho, ho with commendable speed. Tony began to relax as the number of children without a present went down but pride proved to come before a fall. Abby went off to get Santa a well-deserved beverage and while she was gone a tearful, woebegone little girl approached.

"Hello, little girl," said Tony, "what's your name?"

The little girl sniffed and came a bit closer.

"Her name's Ruth," said her mother who looked equally sad.

Tony looked up and recognised Nina Brading from Human Resources.

"Ho, ho, ho," he said for lack of anything else to say.

"Go and sit on Santa's knee," said Nina encouragingly and stared at Tony.

Tony was aghast. So far, nobody had wanted to make much physical contact with Santa although a couple of well-trained boys had shaken his hand on receiving their presents. Ruth didn't look very enamoured of the idea either but she was obedient and started to clamber on to Tony's lap. He reluctantly helped her up and she sat there uncertain what to do next. So she wiped her nose on his arm.

"Ho, ho, ho," said Tony. He paused, "Ho, ho, ho," he caught Nina's puzzled expression. "Ho," he began again, "uh, why are you sad, Ruth?"

Ruth turned big grey eyes on him and said, "I lost Raf," and the eyes filled with tears again.

"Ralph?" asked Tony.

"R-r-raf," repeated Ruth, "I lost him. And he'll be lonely. And so will I!" and the tears spilled over and she let out a loud sob.

"Don't cry," pleaded Tony in desperation and embarrassment, "ho, ho, ho. You shouldn't cry on Christmas Eve. It's unlucky."

This produced an even louder wail from little Ruth and a glare from Nina.

"It's not really unlucky," said Tony hastily, "it's lucky really."

"Lucky?" said Ruth, "why?"

"Er … because it is," said Tony, "because it means you get your tears out of the way before Christmas Day. And that's a good thing."

"Is it?" said Ruth.

"Yes," said Tony firmly, "it is. Ho, ho, ho."

"Oh," said Ruth, "but I'm still sad and I don't think I'll stop crying before Christmas Day. I miss him so much."

Tony looked at Nina who looked tearful at the thought of her daughter crying throughout Christmas. Tony wondered fleetingly if his mother had ever looked at _him_ with such compassion and he found himself drawn to this rather unattractive child. He remembered what parents did in movies and produced a handkerchief,

"Blow," he said, as he put it to her nose.

The attraction waned a little as she blew enthusiastically.

"Keep it," he said when she had finished blowing.

"Is that my present?" Ruth asked with a touch of worry.

"No, that's an extra," he said, "here's your present," and he fished in the sack until he found something soft and squishy, hoping that it was a cuddly toy to take her mind off Raf.

"Thank you," said Ruth and gave him a hug before scrambling off his knee.

"Thank you," said Nina.

"It was nothing," said Tony honestly. "This isn't really my bag, you know."

"You've _stolen_ Father Christmas's sack?" said Nina in mock disapproval, "I think that might be a federal offence."

"No," said Tony desperately, "I meant this isn't really my thing … but you knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes, _Agent DiNozzo._ But anyway, thank you for listening to Ruth."

"I don't think I did anything," said Tony.

"No," agreed Nina, "but she's an odd child. She takes these fancies to people sometimes. I think she likes you."

"Oh," said Tony feeling absurdly pleased that an 'odd child' didn't hate him.

"I think you mean 'ho, ho, ho,'" said Nina.

"Who's Raf?" asked Tony.

"Raf the giraffe," said Nina, "she had him for her first birthday. She takes him everywhere. He's been stitched up so often that there's barely anything original left of him, but she loves him. Oh well, perhaps Christmas will take her mind off it. Oh, better go, looks as if the tears are about to start again."

Tony watched as she walked to her daughter and tried to comfort her. He lost sight of them as the remaining children came up for their presents and when he posed for the group photograph, Ruth and Nina were gone.

Gibbs gave him a nod of approval as he went past on his way to change out of the costume. Tony was exhausted, he had never realised that saying ho, ho, ho was so wearing. He wondered how parents coped with the constant _noise_ and activity and he wondered if he had some Tylenol in his desk drawer.

As Tony walked back from the men's room having reinvented himself as Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, he found himself picturing his walk along the messy corridor. He stopped to consider something he had seen and then set off at a run. Alas, Phil the janitor had done a good job and the corridor was pristine. Tony was not to be defeated, however, and took the elevator down to the janitors' office,

"Phil," he called as he came near.

"Tony," said Phil emerging with a cup of coffee in his hand, "what you doing down here? Ho, ho, ho!"

Tony ignored this. He thought he might be doing a lot of feigning deafness in the days to come.

"The garbage you picked up from the corridor. You know, where the kids had run through. What did you do with it?"

"What?" asked Phil blankly.

"The trash, what did you do with it?"

"Is this a joke?" asked Phil.

"No, I think I saw something in it. I want to check it out."

"It's in the dumpster," said Phil.

"Why?"

"Because it's trash," said Phil reasonably.

"Show me," said Tony.

"OK," said Phil, "how much of that mulled cider did you have?"

"None," said Tony stiffly, "Father Christmas is teetotal."

"Really?" said Phil, "we always left him a shot of whisky in our house. Still, it was my daddy's favourite brand so I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Phil, I'd really love to stay and chew the fat about your childhood," said Tony, "but I've got more important things to be doing."

"Like looking for trash?" said Phil sceptically, "on Christmas Eve?"

"Yes," said Tony firmly, "yes."

"OK," said Phil, "have it your own way," and he led him to the dumpster, "there it is. Of course, I put the food waste in afterward."

"Of course," said Tony bitterly. He was about to give up but a memory of Ruth's tear-filled grey eyes came back to him and he remembered Nina's sadness. "Ho, ho, ho," he said and jumped into the dumpster.

NCISNCIS

A couple of hours later, having showered three times to remove the smell of what he was convinced was some of Gibbs' three day old take out, he stood before Nina's front door. In his hand he held a patched, worn, more than slightly grubby woolly bundle that looked a bit like a misshapen hat.

"Ho, ho, ho," said Tony when Nina opened the door, "Happy Christmas."


	2. Chapter 2

Tony DiNozzo stood looking at himself sadly in the mirror as he remembered past Christmases. He comforted himself that, although the occasional grey hair sprouted near his ears, his hair was not yet white. He also found solace that he could see himself perfectly clearly in the mirror: no need for wire rimmed glasses yet. And, unlike a previous Christmas, he wasn't clothed in a red Santa suit although as he patted his stomach he reflected that a bit less padding would be needed than on that previous Christmas Eve.

He sighed as he looked around the empty room. The fire unlit in the grate; a Christmas tree standing lopsided and bare in the corner; a box of decorations sitting forlornly on the table waiting for someone to unpack them but Tony didn't have the energy to do it.

From the street outside he could hear the noise of people chattering and calling to each other as they finished their last minute Christmas shopping: happy sounds of people enjoying being on the brink of Christmas. Tony didn't need to do any last minute Christmas shopping; indeed he hadn't done any_ first_ minute shopping either.

It had been a momentous year at NCIS. Ducky had finally decided to retire from full-time work and was now employed as a consultant on particularly abstruse and difficult cases: it was a quirk of NCIS that they seemed to have lots of abstruse and difficult cases meaning that Ducky was a frequent visitor to the Navy Yard. More shocking than Ducky's step back was Gibbs' retirement as the lead of the MCRT a few months before. Tony was acting as team leader while Director Vance considered his options but Tony wasn't optimistic about his chances of being made permanent lead and wasn't sure whether he wanted it or not. He wondered if it would be better to offer Vance his resignation rather than waiting to be dismissed but he didn't the energy to think things through. Tony realised that he missed Gibbs more than he'd expected; he wondered if perhaps Gibbs' unreasonable demands and expectations had been what he needed to stimulate his brain into making unlikely connections. Without that constant challenge he feared he was floundering.

The sound of someone knocking at the door jerked him out of his melancholy and he went listlessly to see who it was.

"Boss!" he said in surprise.

"Not your Boss," said Gibbs.

"My brain hasn't quite caught up with that yet, Gibbs," said Tony.

"You gonna let me in?" groused Gibbs, "You're letting all the cold air in."

"Sure, come in," said Tony.

"Why you sitting in the dark, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs peering into the unlit living room.

"Hadn't noticed," said Tony.

"Fire's not lit either," observed Gibbs.

Tony tried to laugh it off, "never did get the hang of setting a fire. Need to take some more lessons from McGoo … or from you," he finished as Gibbs knelt in front of the fire and set about fixing it.

"Christmas Eve," said Gibbs, as he watched the logs beginning to crackle.

"Good observation skills, Gibbs," said Tony, "you really should have thought about a career as an investigator."

"Why no decorations up?" asked Gibbs.

"Tradition," said Tony, "don't decorate until Christmas Eve."

"Never pegged you as someone for tradition, Tony."

"Me neither but it turns out I'm not real good with change."

"Things don't stay the same, Tony. You know that."

"I know, Gibbs. I know."

"And _you've_ made changes, you can't deny that," said Gibbs.

"True. Can I ask you something, Gibbs?"

"You just did."

"Ha ha. That Christmas Eve when I played Santa?"

"Y-e-s?" said Gibbs cautiously.

"Why did you sit at McGee's computer?"

"What? I don't remember."

"Come on, Gibbs, you've got the memory of a herd of elephants."

"What does it matter after all this time?"

"Humour me. Or if you don't want to tell me, let me guess."

"OK," said Gibbs retreating to a chair away from the light of the fire.

"There was no reason for you to sit there and even less reason for you to touch the keyboard. And since when did you use all your fingers to type?" Gibbs seemed to realise these were rhetorical questions and stayed silent. "So the only thing I can think is that you _wanted_ to stick your fingers to the keyboard. If it had just been one finger stuck I might buy it."

"You didn't say anything at the time," said Gibbs mildly.

"_At the time_," protested Tony, "I was too busy trying not to pee my pants in terror to be thinking logically!"

"And now?" asked Gibbs.

"Now I'm a bit calmer, my heartbeat's finally back to normal."

"It's been two years," pointed out Gibbs.

"You're a pretty scary guy," said Tony, "when you want to be. And you really wanted to be that day. I can't figure out why."

"Try," said Gibbs.

"The only thing I can think of," said Tony, "is that you wanted me to be Santa and you suckered me into agreeing by striking the fear of Gibbs into me."

Gibbs' shrug might have been confirmation.

"But I can't figure out why anyone would want _me _to be Father Christmas and especially anyone who knew me. You'd have been a million times better than me."

"That's what Leon thought too," said Gibbs.

"So the Director wanted you to be Santa?" said Tony.

"Yep," said Gibbs.

"Why didn't you want to do it?" asked Tony in bewilderment, "you're good with kids, it would have been a walk in the park for you." He looked across at Gibbs whose face was hidden in the shadows. "So why didn't you want to do it?" he mused as he played back the events of the Christmas party in his mind, "oh," he said, "oh. I'm sorry, Jethro, it didn't occur to me. Those kids at the party, a lot of them would've been Kelly's age."

"Couldn't do it," said Gibbs in a slightly husky voice.

"I understand now," said Tony softly, "but Jeez, Boss, why did you pick on me? McGee would've done it better. Hell, anyone would've done it better."

"'Cos I knew you'd step up, Tony, and you did. Because that's what you do. When it comes to the crunch, you were always the one I could rely on."

"Thanks, Boss, that means a lot," said Tony.

"And you need to be ready to step up now, DiNozzo, or at least when Vance makes up his mind what he wants to do at the agency," said Gibbs.

"D'you know what he's up to?" asked Tony.

"I may be spending half my time at FLETC now," said Gibbs, "but Leon's called me in as consultant on the changes he's thinking of."

"Am I part of his thinking?" asked Tony.

"That what's bothering you?" said Gibbs.

"Do you blame me?" said Tony, "last few months haven't exactly been stellar."

"If Vance has got any sense, you'll be part of his plans," said Gibbs firmly, "you may just need to step out of your comfort zone."

"Dunno, Boss,"

"You did it two years ago, Tony, you can do it again."

Tony's thoughts drifted back two years as he remembered standing outside Nina's front door with Raf in his hand and wondering if this had been such a good idea after all.

"_Agent DiNozzo," said Nina in a surprised voice, "what can I do for you?"_

"_Uh. Well. Er. Well, um. You see … Um … is this Raf?" and he thrust the toy towards her._

"_What? Oh! You've found Raf. Thank you, thank you! Where was he?"_

"_Ruth dropped him in the corridor. Phil, Phil the janitor had swept him up."_

"_And he told you?" asked Nina._

"_No. After the party, when I was de-Santaising myself, I remembered something I'd seen in the corridor so I went back but it was gone. So I went and found Phil 'cos I knew he'd been sweeping along there."_

"_And he gave Raf to you?"_

"_Not exactly. He'd dumped Raf. He's a bit smelly."_

"_Phil?"_

"_No. Well, sometimes, but he's got a dirty job. No, Raf is a bit smelly. He was in the dumpster."_

"_It's OK. Raf is used to being in the washer. Belonging to a five year old isn't the cleanest occupation in the world. How did you get him out of the dumpster?"_

"_Um, I went in after him," admitted Tony._

"_You went into the dumpster for Ruth's toy?" asked Nina incredulously._

"_I'm used to dumpster diving," said Tony defensively, "I work on Gibbs' team. He loves to send us into those dumpsters. All in a day's work."_

"_But this wasn't your work," pointed out Nina, "this was for a little girl who was sad on Christmas Eve."_

"_And her mom," said Tony._

"_And her mom," agreed Nina._

"_I'd better be going," said Tony, turning to go, "I just wanted to bring him to you. To Ruth."_

"_Mommy," came Ruth's voice as she came to the front door, "are you talking to Father Christmas?"_

"_No, darling," said Nina, "this is Special Agent DiNozzo. He works for NCIS as well."_

"_Oh," said Ruth gazing up at Tony, "you sound like Father Christmas did this afternoon."_

_Tony was impressed by her observation skills and thought he'd better refrain from saying 'ho, ho, ho'._

"_Ruth," said Nina, "look what Agent DiNozzo's found," and she held Raf out to her daughter. Ruth obviously didn't care that Raf smelled of Gibbs' ancient takeout and clasped him to her chest in ecstasy._

"_Thank you," she breathed, "thank you. I didn't want him to be on his own somewhere. He'd 've missed me." She walked forward and hugged Tony's legs with one arm, the other being full of smelly stuffed toy._

"_That's OK," said Tony, "I wasn't sure if it was Ralph, I mean Raf. He doesn't look much like a giraffe."_

_Nina looked at the toy, "No, I suppose he doesn't. I'd forgotten, but Ruth loves him and that's all that matters. You've rescued our Christmas, Agent DiNozzo."_

"_Tony."_

"_Nina."_

"_I'd better be going," said Tony._

"_Don't go," said Ruth._

"_Darling," said Nina, "Agent DiNozzo can't stay."_

"_Why not? I want him to look for Big Bear too."_

"_I'm sorry, Agent DiNozzo … Tony," said Nina, "Big Bear got lost a long time ago. You've done enough, more than enough for us."_

"_OK," said Tony, "I might see you at work then, Nina?"_

"_Yes," said Nina._

_As Tony walked away he was followed by a wail of protest from Ruth._

Tony was brought back to the present by Gibbs saying, "I guess I'm going to have to make my own coffee."

"I'll make it for you, Boss. The machine's got more than one button."

He was about to stand up and go into the kitchen when the front door flew open,

"Daddy, Daddy! We're home!" Ruth ran into the living room and threw herself into Tony's arms.

"Oof," said Tony, "I missed you too!"

"Ruth," said Nina following her daughter, "I told you to be careful, Daddy's only just come out of the hospital. You have to be gentle."

"Sorry, Daddy," said Ruth, "did I hurt you?"

"I'm all right, Sweet pea," said Tony, "you didn't hurt me," and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"Good," said the practical Ruth, "'cos we've got to decorate the tree," and she dropped to the floor and dragged Tony over to the box of decorations."

"I think they'll be busy for a while, Jethro," said Nina, "come on, I'll make you a cup of coffee."

As they sat in the kitchen drinking their coffee, Nina said,

"Thanks for coming in, Jethro. I was convinced I'd come home and find him putting all the decorations up or deciding to go and do Christmas shopping. I told him I'd got everything but you know Tony. And Brad told him he had to take things easily if he was going to come out of the hospital for the holidays."

"He wasn't doing anything much," said Gibbs deciding not to tell her that he had found Tony sitting in the dark. "He seemed a bit down."

"He's worried," said Nina, "he doesn't think he's doing a good enough job as team leader. And then off for two weeks with pneumonia. All the rumours about what's going on at NCIS."

"He's doing a good job," said Gibbs, "and Vance knows it. Not Tony's fault he got sick and Vance is a fair man. Well, when it suits him … and this will suit him."

"Thanks, Jethro," said Nina, and then as a mother's radar activated, added, "I think they need a referee in there!"

Gibbs and Nina went into the living room and found Tony flagging a little as Ruth said hello to each tree decoration and then gave careful consideration to where it should hang on the tree; and then changed her mind when she took the next bauble out of the box.

"Hey, Ruth," said Gibbs, "I've made you some more decorations. D'you want to look at them with me?"

Ruth loved Gibbs and was easily diverted from Tony who gratefully went back to his chair. Nina came and sat on the arm,

"You might want to take a nap," she said, "Abby, McGee, Ducky and the Palmers will be along soon."

"I'm fine," said Tony, and at her sceptical glance, went on, "really. The Gibbs effect; even without a head slap. And you and Ruth always do me good."

"Remember Christmas Eve last year?" asked Nina.

"Our quiet wedding day," laughed Tony, "simple ceremony at the court house with Ruth."

"It was lovely," sighed Nina.

"And then coming out, into the snow," remembered Tony.

"Magical," said Nina.

"And then Abby and the gang shouted 'surprise!' and jumped out from behind those bushes."

"Might have known we couldn't keep something like that secret from the top investigative team at NCIS," chuckled Nina.

"It was good though, wasn't it?"

"Absolutely. Although I'd never realised that my wedding day would be incomplete without Delores Bromstead being there!"

"You know, if it hadn't been for Ruth being so determined I come to dinner that first Christmas Day I was going to ask Delores to marry me," said Tony reminiscently, "she is a goddess among women."

"Idiot!" said Nina hitting him gently on the arm.

"But I'm glad I settled for you instead," said Tony.

"Hmmm, remind me why I married you?"

"'Cos I'm the most handsome man you've ever met?"

"No, that's not it."

"Because I can give you the plot, stars and date of every movie released in the last twenty years?"

"_Every_ movie?"

"Well, every one worth watching," amended Tony, "I save you a fortune in movie encyclopaedias."

"Yes, because I spent so much money on those before I met you. No, that's not why I married you." said Nina.

"Because I went dumpster diving for Raf?" asked Tony.

"Hmmm, that didn't hurt," admitted Nina.

"Then why did you marry me?" teased Tony.

"Because it's always good to have a federal agent in the house," said Nina, "so why did you marry me?"

"Are you kidding? Ruth told me to."

Nina and Tony looked at one another in perfect accord and might even have snatched a kiss but Ruth had other ideas,

"Look what Uncle Gibbs made," and she showed them some wooden decorations. "This one's mine," she said, fingering a letter R painted silver and gold.

"Why?" said Tony.

"Because it's R."

"Oh, I see," said Tony, "R for reindeer."

"No, Daddy."

"I know. R for Raf."

"Oh," said Ruth, "I didn't think of that. Uncle Gibbs, is this for Raf?"

"Nope," said Gibbs, looking up from where he was disentangling a string of Christmas lights. "It's for you."

"See, Daddy. I told you. It's R for Ruth."

"This one's for Raf," said Gibbs, and he handed her a small painted giraffe. Ruth looked at it in wonder and then ran out of the room,

"I'm going to show it to Raf. He'll love it!"

"Say thank you," called Nina to the retreating child.

"Thanks, Boss," said Tony, "she loves it. And now we'll be the only house in Washington with a giraffe on their Christmas tree."

Ruth came back chattering to Raf as she introduced him to his very own Christmas decoration.

"Uncle Gibbs," she said, "Raf says thank you very much. But we're not going to put it on the tree."

"Why not?" asked Nina, "where does Raf want it to go?"

"With the wise men," said Ruth.

"Why?" asked Tony.

"Because they rode on giraffes to see the baby Jesus," said Ruth and then scowled as the adults burst out laughing.

Hoping to avert a crisis, Tony spoke to Ruth, "did you enjoy the Christmas party? Did you meet Father Christmas?"

"It was great," said Ruth, "we had cake and soda and played games and did lots of things."

Tony exchanged a look with Nina as he understood why she was so full of energy. He never had got round to suggesting raw carrots and lettuce for the Christmas party.

"But," said Ruth in a puzzled voice, "it's very strange."

"What is?" asked Nina.

"Father Christmas seems to have lots of voices."

The adults froze, wondering if an illusion was about to be shattered.

"Nice voices?" asked Gibbs.

"Yes," said Ruth, "and sometimes I think I know the voices."

"Yes?" asked Tony.

"Today it sounded like McUncle. _And _he wanted to give me a science toy."

"Really?" said Nina.

"Yes, but I said 'no thank you' and he gave me something else."

"Good girl," said Tony approvingly.

"Cos I expect McUncle will give me a science toy for Christmas," said Ruth thoughtfully, "and it'll be very nice but I don't want _two _science toys. I don't want to grow up to be a Greek."

"I think, my dear Ruth, that the word is _geek_" said Ducky as he came into the room, "forgive me, the door was unlocked and I didn't want Anthony to come to the door in this cold weather."

"Uncle Ducky!" said Ruth happily, "I've got a new giraffe. We're going to put it next to the Baby Jesus!"

"Indeed," said Ducky, "and why are you going to do that?"

"Because the wise men ride on giraffes to the stable," said Tony as if this was obvious.

"That doesn't seem very likely," said Ducky, "giraffes don't like to get sand in their toes."

Ruth considered this, "they could wear boots," she said, "gold boots with silver buttons."

"Of course," said Ducky, "that's the answer. Now, why don't you go tell Uncle Gibbs where the lights should go on the tree? I want a quick word with my two patients."

"I'm fine, Ducky," said Tony, "I stayed quietly at home and let my wife and daughter go to the Christmas party without me."

"Very good, Anthony," said Ducky approvingly.

"And I'm fine too," said Nina.

"Yes," said Tony laying his hand on the baby bump, "all's well with baby Rebecca."

"Baby Joshua," corrected Nina.

"Want to bet?" offered Tony.

* * *

><p><em>AN: well done to those who were suspicious about Gibbs getting superglued. And apologies for the amount of fluff – it just seemed to happen.<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Tony DiNozzo stood looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses and stroked the silver whiskers and smiled at the thought that he was almost ready to play Father Christmas. He winced when he saw the reflection of his left hand, the pale skin showing where his wedding band used to be and he once more felt the pang of a loss he hadn't got used to.

Tony sighed but then nodded briskly at his reflection as he realised he had things he needed to be doing.

"Come on, J," he said, as he placed the little boy on the stool by the wash basin, "let's wash your face. Then we can go look at the tree."

The child considered this and seemed to decide that having his face washed was a price worth paying to look at the Christmas tree. He loved the Christmas tree, it was the most entrancing thing he had seen in his short life. In his impatience to go down to the living room he raised his arms to Tony so that he could be carried down the stairs; usually J insisted on walking everywhere with excruciating slowness and often launched into a tantrum if he was carried against his will. Now Tony breathed a small sigh of relief at one less battle to fight and lifted the child into his arms.

The room was lit just by the wood fire and by the twinkling lights on the tree. Tony hoped that the silence of the dimly lit room would lull J into sleep; he was overdue his afternoon nap and Tony didn't want to be coping with a cantankerous, overtired two year old. Tony sat down by the tree with J in his lap and watched as the little boy reached out a hand towards the ornaments,

"Gently," said Tony, "gently."

J lightly touched a little bell with his forefinger and giggled when he heard it ring. Tony breathed a sigh of relief. Too soon: J hit the bell with the palm of his hand in the hope of hearing a louder ring. He decided this was even more fun and reached out to smack it again but Tony was not to be taken unawares twice and caught his hand in time. J scowled in fury at being denied but Tony distracted him by pointing to a wooden J hanging from one of the branches.

"Look, it's a J," he said, "isn't it pretty?"

J seemed to give this serious thought and then decided he agreed,

"Pretty!" he said, "green!"

"Good boy," praised Tony, "yes, it's green. What else is green?"

J then spent a few minutes pointing at everything that was green. As the tree was a real one, and big, that meant that he spent a lot of time pointing at branches but he didn't get bored and Tony humoured him by praising him each time he was right. The game began to pall after a while and Tony moved over to the nativity scene in the window.

"G'raf"" said J happily as he spotted the wooden giraffe that Gibbs had once made and which now adorned the DiNozzo family nativity scene.

Tony handed the giraffe to J who happily sucked on one of its ears.

"What else can you see?" he asked,

"Camel," said J proudly, pointing to a lamb.

"That's a lamb," corrected Tony.

"Camel!" insisted J and threw the giraffe at it to make his point. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"Come on, J," said Tony, picking the child up, "I think it's sleepy time for little boys." He went and sat in the big chair by the fire and held the wriggling J in his arms. J loved watching real fires and gradually he calmed down again and fell still against Tony's chest. He held on to Tony's left hand and rubbed the line where the wedding band used to be. He looked puzzled by it and raised questioning eyes to Tony, "yes, it's gone, J," said Tony sadly.

J didn't understand but he raised his hand and patted Tony's cheek, "There, there," he said.

Tony chuckled and placed his own hand on J's cheek and mimicked him, "There, there," he said.

This was a game which went for a few minutes and then J fell asleep. Tony hugged him a bit closer and looked into the fire himself until he found his own eyelids drooping and he followed J into slumber.

NCISNCIS

"You all right, Dad?" came a voice in Tony's ear.

Tony woke up disorientated, puzzled by the weight of a small child in his lap and the sight of a young man stooping over him. For a moment or two he didn't know who the young man was and he struggled to put the pieces in place.

"Wake up, Dad," said the young man again.

"Josh," said Tony, as the fog of sleep dispersed and he recognised his son standing in front of him. "Ssh, don't wake J. He wouldn't go down after lunch." But it was too late, J sensed something different and woke up,

"Joshwa!" he cried excitedly, "Joshwa! I know green!"

"OK," said Tony, "this is your fault. You can take him," and he swung J into Joshua's arms.

"Come on, buddy," said Joshua, "let's go find some cookies!"

J was torn between excitement at the thought of having a cookie and wanting to walk; walking won.

"Walk!" he insisted as he struggled to be let down to the floor.

"Not too many cookies," said Tony, "unless you want to be up all night with him on a sugar high."

"Come on, Dad," said Joshua, "he's probably going to be up all night anyway. It's Christmas Eve."

"He's not the only one," said Tony.

"Dad," said Joshua mockingly, "isn't it time you stopped getting so excited about Christmas?"

Tony shook his head and followed Josh and J into the kitchen. He swooped down on J and put him in his high chair,

"There you are, Jamie," he said, "sit nicely, and you can have a reindeer cookie."

Jamie bit the head off happily and then, getting bored, banged the rest of the cookie on the arm of his chair and watched the crumbs fall to the ground.

"Was I that bad?" asked Josh.

"No," said Tony, "you never threw food away. Toys, clothes, bowls, cutlery … but never food."

"Waste not, want not," said Josh, "I learned that from Uncle Gibbs."

"If you start stockpiling Chinese takeout in your room," said Tony, "I'm subletting it. You'll come home from college and find someone _neat and tidy_ living in your room."

"You wouldn't do that," said Josh confidently, "who else would you talk football with?"

Tony smiled at that. He knew that Josh was right, not about the football (although Tony loved to talk about the games with his son) but that Tony would never turn his son out. In the days before his marriage, when Tony had dared to dream about having children, he had always somehow pictured himself with daughters so Josh's birth had taken him by surprise. Now, more than twenty years later, Tony didn't regret Ruth having a brother rather than a sister. He loved having a sturdy, determined little boy around the house and he continued to feel a deep joy and satisfaction that he could watch a DiNozzo boy grow up without the scars caused by emotional neglect and insecurity. Tony knew that he had done well in his career at NCIS but believed that his biggest achievements were in the raising of his children. He rubbed his finger absently and Josh watched with a sympathetic look on his face.

"Well, old man," said Joshua, "the cookies aren't bad, taking up baking in your retirement?"

"Proud DiNozzo tradition," said Tony, "your grandfather took to baking in his later years. But they're not as good as your mom's cookies."

"Law of nature," said Josh, "moms always bake the best cookies. Are you sure this is a reindeer? It looks more like a tree."

"It's a reindeer," said Tony firmly, "the trees are green … well, greenish. Turns out that green is a tricky colour to get right. Especially when the sous chef kept insisting it was time to watch Sesame Street rather than cutting out cookies."

"Mom would have been able to do it," pointed out Josh.

"I'm getting there," said Tony, "another twenty years and I'll have mastered it."

"Might cut into your movie time," observed Josh, "and Mom …"

"Mommy!" said J suddenly, looking up from the remains of his headless reindeer, "where's Mommy? Want Mommy!"

"Now you've done it," said Tony, as they looked at Jamie's face crumpling in sorrow as he began to wail for his mom. Tony picked J up from the high chair and began to walk him round the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to distract him but J was on a roll and began to sob louder and louder. Then, over Tony's shoulder, Jamie saw something that made the tears stop,

"Granina, Granina!" he shouted excitedly.

"Hello, pumpkin," said Nina, "what are all these tears for?"

Tony turned with relief and willingly passed Jamie over to Nina. Jamie pressed the last sticky crumb of reindeer cookie into Nina's mouth, "Hmm," she said, "has grandpa been looking after you, James?"

J nodded, "I know green," he said proudly, "I show you."

"We've got something to show _you,_" said Nina.

Tony looked up with interest. Jamie said hopefully, "present?"

"Come and see," said Nina and, with infinite patience, let her grandson lead her into the living room with Joshua and Tony following close behind.

"Mommy, mommy!" said Jamie when he saw his mother sitting in the chair by the fire, "Missed you!"

"And I missed you," said Ruth, "but we've brought you something."

Jamie walked over to Ruth and looked at the bundle in her lap, "It's your baby sister," said Ruth, "here just in time for Christmas."

"Oh," said Jamie, perhaps he had been hoping for more cookies or another giraffe, "is she staying?"

"Yes," said his father Tom from his place beside Ruth, "for ever and ever."

"OK," said Jamie.

"Why don't you give her a kiss?" said Ruth hopefully.

"Can I have a cookie?" said Jamie cunningly.

"Yes," laughed Ruth, and she's brought you a present."

"A present?" said Jamie, beginning to warm towards this rather uninteresting object.

"Yes, give her a kiss, and then Daddy will show it to you."

Jamie screwed up his face and gave his new sister a peck on the cheek. The adults stood tensely and then he touched her cheek gently, "There, there," he said. Then he grabbed his father's hand and led him away to the kitchen telling him all about his day with grandpa.

"I didn't think you were coming out of the hospital today?" said Tony.

"I couldn't stay in hospital on Christmas Eve," said Ruth, "miss a DiNozzo Christmas Eve?"

Tony and Nina smiled at one another. Indeed, their Christmas Eves did tend to be eventful. Ruth and her partner Tom lived in Cambridge, Massachusetts where Ruth was doing research in the planetary science department at M.I.T. Despite her assertion all those years ago, Ruth had indeed grown up to be a 'Greek'. There was an irony, thought Tony, that his daughter was a scientist while McGee's daughter Tabitha worked in a fitness centre as a personal trainer and loved all sports.

Ruth and Tom had been visiting her parents for Christmas when she had unexpectedly gone into labour and produced her new daughter three weeks earlier than planned. Tony had spent the day looking after Jamie while Nina stayed at the hospital with her new granddaughter.

"Josh," said Nina, "let's start dinner," and she pulled her son away so Tony could spend time with Ruth and the new baby.

Ruth moved over to the couch so Tony could sit next to her and the baby.

"Jamie didn't seem very interested," she observed a little sadly.

"You weren't very interested when we brought Josh home," remembered Tony, "you cried, I seem to remember."

"I thought you were getting me a puppy," said Ruth, "it was a bit of a let-down!"

"He turned out all right," said Tony, "in the end." He looked at his new granddaughter who steadfastly carried on sleeping,

"I wanted to come home on Christmas Eve," said Ruth after a few moments.

"You've always loved Christmas," observed Tony.

"Not just because of that," said Ruth, "_we_ met for the first time on Christmas Eve and now you're meeting my daughter for the first time on Christmas Eve."

"I saw her last night," said Tony, "so not the first time."

"Hey, let me have my moment," said Ruth, "You're meeting her _at home_ for the first time on Christmas Eve. OK?"

"OK," said Tony peaceably.

"And you look like Father Christmas now," said Ruth, "those wire-rimmed glasses and that white beard. Your hair's a bit shorter though and you'd need lots of padding now."

"Yeah, who'd have thought that I'd lose weight when I retired," said Tony, rubbing his finger again.

"So, Santa Tony, _Daddy_" said Ruth handing her baby over to Tony, "meet your granddaughter. Gemma Antonia."

"Ho, ho, ho," said Tony, remembering those first words to Ruth all those years before, "hello, little Gemma, welcome to the world."

Ruth and Tony sat quietly together for a few more minutes as Tony held Gemma and began to build new memories of Christmas Eve. Gradually the rest of the family joined them and Tony gave up his place next to Ruth so that Tom and Jamie could sit there. Jamie clutched his new stuffed giraffe, the gift from Gemma, and when the baby woke up, began to find her a bit more interesting.

Nina and Tony sat together looking at their family until they heard a knock at the front door. Joshua jumped up to let their visitor in. It was Gibbs, elderly and a bit more stooped than in the days when he caused terror in the Navy Yard but still with a piercing blue gaze when one was needed. Tony reflected that it was odd that _he_ had lost weight and become more bony and angular with age while Gibbs had softened and become almost plump; not that anyone had the nerve to put it like that: the Gibbs glare was still formidable.

Gibbs was introduced to Gemma who had fallen asleep again and gave Tom and Ruth a wooden box he had carved for them to keep her baby mementoes in.

"I'll carve her name on it as well," he promised, "a G for Giraffe, eh, Jamie?"

J was on the verge of falling asleep but smiled enthusiastically,

"Is she a g'raf?" he asked Tom.

"No, she's a little girl," said his father.

"Oh," said J disappointedly, "a g'raf would have been cool."

Ruth decided it was bath time for J and bed time for Gemma so took her family upstairs. Nina and Joshua returned to the kitchen to carry on the dinner preparations leaving Gibbs and Tony alone.

"You gonna shave any time soon, Tony?" asked Gibbs pointing to his whiskers.

"It's Christmassy," said Tony, "I thought I'd be ready in case anyone needed an emergency Santa."

"And those glasses," said Gibbs, "are they Christmassy too?"

"Girl in the shop said they were elegant," said Tony defensively, "chic. You know."

"Yeah, sure, 'cos I always chose my glasses by their chicness."

"One of the rules we never knew about?" asked Tony.

Gibbs shrugged and gave a half smile as he remembered the terror he had imposed on his team.

"How long are Ruth and Tom here for?" he asked.

"End of the week, then they'll head back," said Tony.

"And Josh?"

"Back to college in a couple days. He's got a holiday job to go back to."

"How many years to go?"

"Three, at least. Then we'll have a doctor in the family."

"Second doctor," corrected Gibbs, "Ruth's got her PhD, hasn't she?"

"Yep, who'd have thought I'd end up with two children who are doctors?" said Tony in a proud but puzzled voice. He was still not sure how all this had happened. "House'll be empty again," continued Tony, "have you decided yet?"

People kept telling Gibbs, for his own good of course, that he should sell his house and move into something more suitable for someone of his years. The unspoken fear was that he would take a tumble down the stairs in the basement and not be discovered for days. Abby had suggested that he wear a medical alert bracelet so he could summon help if needed but had backed off at his outraged expression.

"Guess I _should _move," said Gibbs.

"That why you had me helping shift all the lumber out of your basement?" groused Tony who had been stiff for days after acting as free labour for Gibbs.

"Baby steps," said Gibbs.

"You know that Nina and I meant what we said," said Tony, "we can convert our basement into living quarters for you. You can access it from the back yard. No need for stairs."

Gibbs wriggled noncommittally.

"You'd have your independence."

He wriggled again.

"And the pleasure of being near to us," added Tony.

"Ach, and you were just beginning to sell to me, Tony," said Gibbs. "Would cost a lot of money," he said.

"Not that much," said Tony, "and the kids are all for it."

"They're that keen to have me living in your basement?" said Gibbs.

"You're Uncle Gibbs who's taught them woodworking and the joys of two day old takeout," said Tony, "of course they want you here. And they think it would be useful for when Nina and me can't get about. They can pop us downstairs and ignore us. Think about it, Gibbs. Seems a sensible idea."

"Don't really do sensible, Tony," said Gibbs.

"It might be fun," said Tony, "and Nina makes a mean cup of coffee."

"Fun?" asked Gibbs, "having your old cantankerous former boss living underneath you?"

"OK, perhaps 'fun' was the wrong word," amended Tony, "it would be awful and we hope you'll say no."

"In that case," said Gibbs, "I'll say yes."

"Good," said Tony, "I'll get McFather's architect brother-in-law to finish off the plans."

"You've got plans already?" said Gibbs, "what happened to rule 8. Don't assume?"

"Trumped by DiNozzo rule 2. Do right by your family. And you're family, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded. "Thank you. Oh, I got something for you, Tony," and he handed Tony a small box.

"Boss, this is so unexpected," said Tony, "but I'm already married. Not that you're not a fine figure of a man. More of a figure than you used to be but I'm not commenting on that."

"Idiot!" said Gibbs, "open it."

Tony opened the ring box and gasped, "It's my wedding band! Where did you find it?"

"Found it in my yard the day you helped clear that lumber. Must have slipped off."

"Thank you, Boss, I missed it. I know it's only a piece of metal but I missed it."

"Should fit better now," said Gibbs, "got a jeweller friend of mine to make it smaller. Won't slip off now. That's why I didn't bring it to you sooner."

"How did you know what size to make it?" asked Tony. Gibbs just stared at him, "Right. Of course, because you're Gibbs."

"Am I interrupting?" asked Nina coming into the room with coffee for Gibbs, "or do you two still need a moment or two alone?" as she saw Tony holding a ring box.

"Look, love," said Tony, "Gibbs found my wedding band."

"Thank you, Jethro," said Nina, "he's been miserable without it. He's such a romantic."

"Here, you put it on my finger, like you did on that other Christmas Eve all those years ago," said Tony ignoring the aspersions on his sentimentality.

Nina, with a hint of mistiness about her own eyes, put the ring on Tony's finger and then squeezed his hand.

Later, as they all sat round the dinner table, Ruth proposed a toast,

"To DiNozzo Christmas Eves … when the lost are found again,"

"And the lonely find a home" said Gibbs.

"Ho, ho, ho," said Tony in his best Father Christmas voice.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I decided that earthdragon's point about it being no bad thing to grow up a geek was a good one. <em>

_Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and especially to those who reviewed anonymously and who I couldn't thank directly. _

_What can I say? The fluff just wouldn't stay out of the story._


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